Stormie Steele didn’t walk the usual path to becoming an artist. She didn’t come from art schools or formal mentorships. Her work comes from somewhere more personal—born out of years spent growing, reflecting, and healing. A self-taught artist, writer, and healing arts practitioner, Steele approaches creativity the same way she approaches life: with openness, honesty, and deep listening. Her paintings don’t try to impress or explain. They’re rooted in feeling, in letting the brush follow the rhythm of something larger than herself. Her work isn’t about chasing perfection—it’s about embracing the rawness of being alive.
In Steele’s world, abstract art becomes a kind of prayer. Not one with answers, but with space. Her work encourages stillness, inner quiet, and trust in whatever arises next. It doesn’t demand your attention—it welcomes it, gently.
A Closer Look at “A Collection of Original Abstract Series”
Stormie Steele’s abstract paintings hold a different kind of weight—not because they’re grand or loud, but because they give you room to breathe. Her canvases don’t try to define life. Instead, they echo its uncertainties.

In Abstracts by Storm (48 x 36), she captures that moment of stepping into the unknown with a kind of quiet confidence. She writes of “graceful nonresistance”—and that phrase feels like the painting itself. Colors shift like wind across water, forms drift in and out of recognition. There’s no pressure to interpret what you see. The painting lets you sit with your own response. Steele doesn’t force a message. She trusts the viewer, just as she trusts the creative process.

That trust shows up again in Abstracts by Storm (36 x 48). This work moves inward. It’s about faith—not the kind that’s preached, but the kind that carries you through chaos without needing to understand it. The colors are soft but steady, the composition loose but grounded. Her words remind us that faith often means learning to grow through the unknown, to accept what doesn’t resolve.
These pieces aren’t created for analysis. They’re felt through the body, absorbed like a piece of music.

In Resurrection (49 x 40), the tone shifts. There’s more tension here, more contrast. The title gives it away—this is about coming back to life after collapse. Steele describes it as the moment when “glimmers of possibility emerge.” You see that in the texture. There’s a rawness, but also warmth. Forms rise from what looks like ash. The painting doesn’t dramatize rebirth. It honors how quiet and subtle it can be.
What threads these works together is Steele’s willingness to surrender—to let the brush lead, to move without knowing exactly where it’s going. She doesn’t treat her canvas like a space to perform. She treats it like a space to listen.
And that’s what her paintings invite in return. They’re not puzzles. They’re mirrors. You don’t need to solve them. You just need to be present with them.
Steele’s work doesn’t follow trends or chase validation. It moves on its own time, in its own language. A language that welcomes imperfection, that respects the quiet parts of life we often overlook.
There’s a kind of discipline in her surrender. A discipline in learning to let go, to create not from control, but from clarity. And that clarity shows up in the way her work feels grounded even when it’s abstract.
Stormie Steele paints like someone who’s paying attention—to herself, to the world, to something deeper that can’t quite be named. And in doing so, she gives the rest of us permission to slow down, to feel more deeply, and maybe to begin listening too.